


Temper Temper

by GetOutOFMyTreeNovice



Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: Fluff, I'm sorry., It starts out violent, Kissing, M/M, Mentions of angry brutal sex, almost angry sex, and oral, how mushy it is, it's disgusting, then gets disgustingly mushy.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-18
Updated: 2013-10-18
Packaged: 2017-12-29 17:36:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1008171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GetOutOFMyTreeNovice/pseuds/GetOutOFMyTreeNovice
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was about ink this time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Temper Temper

When they fuck, it's hard and vicious full of biting and claws and enraged snarling. Because Altair always finds a way to piss him off just the right way that makes Malik so angry he just shoves Altair against a wall is is biting him so hard it's almost like he's trying to rip out Altair's throat. And Altair shoves at him and Malik just snarls and they both tear at each other's clothes until they're naked and bleeding. Then they'll stare at the other, panting, before going at it again, this time with more lips, but just as cruel. Malik will shove Altair over his desk and pin the assassin down with his one arm, hissing threats into his ear as he fucks Altair open. Or Altair will push Malik down to his knees and shove his cock in the Dai's mouth, growling at him and meeting Malik's famous evil eye and he'd be lying if he said it didn't send a shot of arousal through him.  
  
It was about ink this time. Altair was just sitting around in the bureau and Malik didn't want to deal with him, so he told him to go and get some more ink. He was almost out anyway.  
  
Altair sneered. “I'm not your maid.” And Malik felt like throwing an inkpot at that giant head of his, but he controlled himself. But then Altair decided that making a show of his evident laziness was necessary and Malik curled his lip and growled, grabbing the closest thing towards him and pelting it at Altair's face. The assassin found himself with a bruised nose and ink in his eyes and he roared in anger, lurching at Malik and they tore at eachother viciously, ripping their robes to shreds and tearing long, angry red lines into unprotected skin.  
  
Malik ended up on his back and he snarled like a cornered wolf, struggling to get back the upper hand, but it was too late; Altair was already pinning his arms down and Malik pushed himself forward, biting onto Altair's throat and growling as he sunk his teeth in and refused to release him.  
  
The master assassin thrashed and was pushing away from the Dai, pleading for him to let go. “You win, fuck! Mal, please!” the pressure was gone and Malik stared up at him. “What?”  
  
Altair looked so alarmed that Malik just had to laugh, breaking the tension. “I almost kill you and you look at me and ask what,” he snorted. “You stupid novice.” Altair looked offended and winced when he touched his neck.  
  
“You could have killed me. Why'd you stop?” Malik furrowed his eyebrows and stared at the other man.  
  
“You act like you wish for death.” he said quietly. “I stopped.. I wasn't trying to kill you. I hate you sometimes. But I still have love for you. I want to hurt you, Altair. Not end your life. You called me Mal.”  
  
“Oh.” he said stupidly, feeling bewildered. He felt like an ass now. After everything, Malik still...  
  
“You're an idiot. Get off me.” Malik shoved at him and Altair rolled off, staring at the lattice ceiling. “Did I break your tiny brain?”  
  
“No,” Altair scowled, shooting a look at Malik. “You still love me.” The Dai blushed and looked away and Altair watched him, captivated.  
  
“I hate you too.” he said stubbornly. Altair sat up.  
  
“But you love me more.”  
  
“No.” Malik growled. Altair inched closer. “Stay away from me.”  
  
“Mal..” Altair said, reaching out to touch him. Malik flinched at the nickname and glared at him.  
  
“Don't.” He said before standing up and walking back to his desk.  
  
Altair left without another word. 

  


Malik went out to get some bottles of ink because the last one he had was the one he'd thrown at that stupid novice. He usually tried to keep his head down when he went shopping but the confrontation with Altair left him bitter and frustrated. He held his head up and glared at everyone who passed him. A guard caught his eye and he curled his lip as he walked past him. The guard grabbed Malik's arm and out of instinct, the Dai jammed his elbow into the guard's diaphragm, putting him down for a few seconds and Malik cursed when two other guards came over. He'd fucked up.  
  
The two guards managed to pin Malik's only arm behind his back while the first planted a hard punch into Malik's stomach. The Dai doubled over and coughed, and then fell forward onto his knees when the guards let go of him. Confused, he looked up and saw Altair laying the last one down and shutting his eyes. The assassin said a prayer for them and then looked at Malik, holding out a hand.  
  
“If the damsel wishes, she can repay me with a ki-” Malik punched him.  
  
“Call me a damsel again and I'll repay you with a knife in your useless back.” he growled. Altair smiled.  
  
“I love you too.” he said before walking off, leaving Malik to stare after him. Altair felt a dumb sense of satisfaction as he walked, feeling Malik's sharp eyes boring into his back. 

  


The next time Malik saw Altair, he punched him hard in the face, glaring at him as he staggered back, holding his bloody nose.  
  
“What was that for?” he complained, his gold eyes tearing up.  
  
“For thinking I care if you tell me you love me back or not. And then walking away so I couldn't say anything.” Altair winced, the barb at him more painful then his bloody nose.  
  
“I'll.. just go.” he said quietly, his chest feeling tight. Malik grabbed his arm.  
  
“No you won't, you idiot. I already knew. So you don't have to say it.” The Dai said, gentler. Altair blinked and looked up at him.  
  
“Oh.” Malik rolled his eyes and pulled Altair closer to kiss him.  
  
“Not one for words, are you,” he said, wrapping his one arm around Altair's neck.  
  
“Not around you, I'm not.” the assassin said, returning Malik's kiss.  
  
“I might vomit from the sentimental shit.” Malik grumbled, pressing a kiss to Altair's jaw.  
  
“You love it.” Altair grinned, tilting his head back.  
  
“No. I hate it. I love you.” Malik said before kissing the broken skin on Altair's throat.


End file.
